


Comfort

by FPwoper



Series: NaNoWriMo challenge 2016 [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: the trench coat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 10:47:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8575393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FPwoper/pseuds/FPwoper
Summary: Dean only has the trench coat as a reminder of Castiel.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Crossposted on tumblr underneath the artwork that inspired it. [Find that here](https://fpwoper.tumblr.com/post/153275067876) [Please let me know if the link doesn't work!]

**Comfort**

 

Some days, Dean was angry, and some days he was sad. Some days he doubted his entire existence, and some days he managed to wipe some fuckers from existence. He felt like a pendulum, constantly swinging from one extreme to the next. He never knew what to expect, himself, and he could understand that everyone chose to leave him.

 

Some days, Dean wondered about Castiel’s motives. Was that really why Castiel had decided to leave him? Was that really it? Was it him? Was it the things inside of him? Dean would never know. He _would never know_. Castiel was gone forever, probably not as lucky as the Winchesters seemed to be when they died and then were resurrected afterwards.

 

Some days, Dean could deal with Castiel being gone. Dean sighed. He knew that the bond between him and Castiel was not something _natural_ or something people would normally classify as natural, anyway. The handprint on his shoulder was a testament to that. Dean hadn’t found out exactly why the handprint was on his shoulder, or what it signified, but he had a strong suspicion that it had something to do with claims on the soul, and yes. Dean could definitely get behind Castiel claiming his soul.

 

Some days, Dean thought he could do it all. Now that Castiel was gone, however, it had all changed. Dean didn’t have a lot of friends who were still alive, so you should have thought that it would have been something easy to shrug off, but instead, it wasn’t. It was harder than anything he had done before, and he knew it would take time for him to heal. The healing process would definitely include excessive drinking, which was the standard, always, and maybe some crying over Castiel’s trench coat, which Dean had rescued from the murky waters of the lake. He’d folded it neatly, and washed it once he got back to the motel. He didn’t want to lose the coat, his only real connection to Castiel left. On top of that, he also wanted to be able to return the coat to Castiel if he returned. For now, though, it was packed away in the Impala, neatly folded and stored in a plastic bag to keep clean.

 

Some days, when Dean was alone, he would go to the Impala, open her trunk and pop the double bottom, and pull the coat from its bag. Some days, Dean felt good about it. Some days, Dean cried, still. Some days, Dean slipped it on. Today was one of those days. Today was one of the days that Dean felt happy about having something tangible that reminded him of Castiel. Dean was alone, but the hunt had gone over well. He was clean, he was okay, he was fed. He had a steady buzz going from the beers he’d drank, but he was sober enough still. So when he removed Castiel’s trench coat from the bag in the Impala’s trunk, he slipped it on and revelled in _Castiel_. Today, he would share happiness with Castiel’s memory. Today was a good day. Today, he could call the trench coat _comfort_.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [tumblr](https://fpwoper.tumblr.com)
> 
> Comments and kudos are welcomed. Prompts too!


End file.
